Impossibly, the seamless marble floor split and pillars began to rise from the ground. Each was of varying thickness and height, but every pillar had one thing in common. A brand or a symbol emblazoned on its surface.
On top of the pillars, blurry figures of people materialised. Almost every person who appeared atop the pillars wore clothing with a similar brand as the pillar itself.
"On either side of the hall, you will find recruiters for the two great factions. The Conquerors and Grey Thought. Each pillar represents a clan or sect that aligns with that faction, and they are taking recruits. Best of luck~"
Lan turned and looked over the pillars, seeing nothing more than a bunch of meaningless symbols. But clearly, he was alone in this. Because the second the administrator finished talking, the thousands of people gathered began stampeding towards either side of the hall.
Everyone was pushing and clawing at each other in a race to get to their chosen pillar. Or any pillar at all, it looked like. Nobody was being very picky, from what Lan could tell.
"Only the dregs!" A thunderous voice boomed, silencing the hall.
Everyone in the hall froze, like someone walking across a frozen lake who had just heard the ice crack.
"You peons died on the first night and expect to join a faction off that! Ha! Don't make me laugh! Come back whenever you've gotten to the third step at least,"
Lan was forced to cover his ears as the rumble of thunder filled his head. His ears rang even after the voice finished speaking.
He glanced up and found a massive man with a stormy, grey and black beard glaring down from what was by far the most prominent pillar on the Conqueror's side of the room. The brand on his pillar read FORWARD.
Unsure of what to do, the gathered pathfinders were caught in indecision. "I agree. Although we are currently accepting applicants until you have reached at least the fourth step, the terms will be less than favourable," A dull, monotone voice cut the confused silence.
Lan whirled around to face the other side of the hall, where a slight man in a grey suit stood atop a pillar branded PROGRESS.
"So, you're here too, Leon!" The man with the beard boomed.
The slight man nodded slowly. Every movement seemed perfectly measured and calculated, "I am here… unfortunately,"
"You're a boring bastard if I've ever seen one! Anyways, run off and get stronger so we can actually judge you lot!" Boomed the bearded man.
Everyone in the hall stared blankly at him, not understanding what he wanted them to do.
"Agh! I said, FUCK! OFF!" His roar was like a hurricane running rampant through the hall. Raging winds picked up every single pathfinder and flung them out onto the cobble path, dumping them on the ground.
Lan glared at the bearded man as he flew helplessly out onto the cold hard stone of the path. "One day… one day no one will be able to…." He muttered grimly.
Pathfinders complaining about their hurt bodies and pride filled the night, echoing along the path and out into the forest.
Lan was happy to find at least some light here, coming from the cobbled path, which glowed a faint blue, barely illuminating its close surroundings and nothing more. Eventually, he followed the crowd as the procession of pathfinders followed the faint blue glow up the mountain, returning to the village they would need to protect in the morning.
Feeling despondent as he walked, Lan wished that he could talk to someone. The last day and a half had been overwhelming and he really wished he had someone to confide in, someone he could talk to. Scenes of his own death swirled around inside his head, building up like steam that would explode if the pressure wasn't released.
He would have liked to talk to Morgan about his worries, but they had run off to town before he got a chance. Freya had demanded they get back and find a good house, but Lan couldn't bring himself to tag along. He felt cripplingly uncomfortable in their group of already-established friends. He already felt like an outsider, owing to the fact he was the only person here who didn't go to an academy. Never mind trying to barge his way into inside jokes.
Perhaps it was fate then, that led him to spot the girl, keeping a large gap between her and the pathfinders returning to town. Her head was downcast and she walked as though she bore the weight of the world on her shoulders. And somehow, Lan sensed a kinship in her lonely figure.
A gloomy malaise settled over the girl like a shroud. From the outside, it almost looked like a forcefield, warding off any human who dared approach her.
So, when he approached her, no one was more shocked than Lan himself.
***
Rachel followed far behind the crowd as they walked towards the town. She staggered alone on the path, keeping the distance between her and the rest of them as big as possible.
She didn't want to be near them. Didn't want to hear the mocking laughter, the taunts that never ended, the snide remarks that cut deeper than any knife could.
A lump formed in her throat, and she almost sobbed, but she forced it down. She had been told enough times by bullies that she was an ugly crier. 'Well, maybe I'm just ugly anyway, whether or not I'm crying,' She thought glumly, rubbing her chubby arm so hard it felt like she was trying to tear it off.
Footsteps came from behind her, and she flinched at the sound, stepping out of whoever was coming's way.
A boy close to her height sauntered past, his dark hair hanging down his face in lanky strands. Not many boys were close to Rachel's height. As she was often reminded, she was freakishly tall for a girl.
"Are you… alright?" The boy asked suddenly, turning to look intently at her.
"H-Huh, I'm, I'm fine," She stuttered, hating her voice and speech impediment with a burning passion as she did. 'Did he hear me crying?'
She tried not to make eye contact, but he just kept staring at her, his blue eyes blazing with fiery intensity. Rage and unwillingness bubbled up in there, crashing into her like a wave. 'Stupid talent,' she groaned internally, hating her talent that was forcing her to see just how much people hated her.
[Talent: The Eyes Are The Window To The Soul
Ability: When making direct eye contact with someone or something, the user can read their emotions and surface-level thoughts. Using mana, the user can convey thoughts and feelings of their own into a target's mind.
Penalty: The user's emotions grow more potent and overwhelming.]
Since she received this talent, her self-loathing had only grown deeper and more entrenched. Now, all it took was one look into someone's eyes to see the true hate and disgust people had for her.
"You don't sound alright. Did what happened in the hall there shake you up?" The boy asked.
"I-I'm… Yeah, I-t was pret-ty sscary," She stuttered.
The boy frowned and she braced herself, the disgust was coming, she was inferior, a defective person who couldn't even talk properly.
"Are you sure? I know I'm a stranger, but you can tell me if anything is bothering you. From my experience, it's easier to talk with people you don't know than friends…." He was staring into her eyes, and she sensed genuine concern. That was rare. Only a select few of the academy's teachers ever offered her anything remotely like pity.
"I- am n-ot v-very g-good at ta-lking," She replied, wishing he would just go away and leave her alone.
The boy nodded, "Fair enough,"
They walked beside each other in awkward silence, Rachel praying for the boy to leave her alone and the boy… he was looking down at the piece of bone in his hands thoughtfully.
"Can you listen?" He asked quietly.
"P-pardon?" She stuttered.
"Do you mind listening while I talk then? I just want to get some stuff off my chest,"
"S-sure," she nodded reluctantly, not wanting to aggravate the boy in case he hit her or mocked her, just like the others did.
He took a deep breath, readying himself and began to talk, "Since I've come here to the tutorial, I mean. I've felt so incredibly out of my depth. Everyone knows way more than me; all I can do is keep fighting, but it feels like I'm swimming upstream. And every time I die, it's… it's terrifying. I know I have to do it. I have to grow stronger and… never mind.
It's just that whenever I'm fighting something, in that moment, it's fun, and I lose myself in that rush of adrenaline," He was gripping the bone so tight his knuckles turned white. "I don't like that feeling, though. It's not right. I shouldn't enjoy fighting and killing… If I do, I'll end up becoming like all the other pathfinders who live only to fight and kill,"
Rachel found herself getting caught up in the story and couldn't help but ask, "W-hy d-on't you w-want to be-e l-like every-o-one else?" She would kill to be like everyone else. All her problems would disappear if she could just have that.
The boy loosened his grip on the spike and relaxed a little, his intense blue eyes growing distant, "It's hard to explain, but I hate what the pathfinders represent. They abuse their strength and treat ordinary people like dirt to be tread on.
When I was young, I remember my father saying, 'power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely,' I wanted to think that I would be the exception, but I don't know anymore,"
Rachel nodded along with what he was saying. "M-most of t-the pathf-finders who t-teach us at the ac-cademy treat the sservants terribly, ev-en the less t-talented sstudents get walked over like they aren't t-there,"
He shook his head sadly, "I had thought it would be different in the academies, but even there, strength is the only thing that matters," He finished with a sigh, and Rachel could tell he truly meant what he said. His eyes were sombre and melancholy.
Taking another deep breath, the boy looked out over the dark forest, "I'm sorry for oversharing, I just don't have anyone to talk to about this kind of stuff, and you seem like a nice person," He muttered.
"D-don't y-you ha-ve an-y c-classmates?"
The boy looked over at her and winked, "I guess not, don't you?"
Rachel shook her head, not meeting his eyes, "I-I'm a sspecial sstudent. M-my classes were d-different f-from e-everyone e-else,"
"Huh… so you're in a similar situation as me then. If you ever need someone to team up with or talk to, I'm your guy. My only condition is, if we are going to fight together, you need to put in as much effort as I do,"
Rachel wasn't sure why, but the urge to just show this guy her secret bubbled up inside her, and on impulse, she opened her mind and sent her thoughts to him.
My name is Rachel, and I'm a telepath.
The boy jumped back with a start, "Shit, that was insanely loud!"
Sorry, I still need to improve at controlling the volume since I have no one to practice on.
"No, don't worry about it. I'm Lan and if you ever need someone to practice on, give me a call,"
Rachel smiled for the first time since coming here, and she meant it. She really meant it.